I’m finding the old “You don’t know what you have until it’s gone” aphorism (is that the aphorism?) to be less and less applicable to my mindset. As I lose things, I tend to forget about them. When I stopped having as much free time, I stopped worrying about keeping up with TV shows. When my old computer broke, I stopped caring about playing games on it. When I lost an old book I had been reading some years ago, I never again bothered to get another copy and finish it.

Really, I guess it just takes concentrated deprivation for me to admit how little some things mean to me. I wonder if that’s a dangerous trait, since we tend to get more attached to dross and straw throughout our lives — thus, I run the risk of losing things upon which I’m more and more dependent before I’m able to see how little they matter.

Wow, I better start praying more.

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Apparently, I’ve authorized all 5 of my alloted 5 computers on my itunes account. I’ve only ever owned 3 computers, so I’m sort of at a loss as to how this happened. Either some rogue authorizer is out there, using up my allotment, or I’ve been far too quick to give away my precious music privileges. Hey speaking of dross…

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As I was leaving work today, I was called into the office to discuss something five minutes after clocking out. I’m still working on a tactful way to bring this up. Something like: “So, you know how I had to stay 15 minutes later than I got paid for last Friday? I’m gonna need that time…back…in my life…please.” (Always say “please.” It makes it sound like you are polite, even if you are, in fact, a bozo. Unless you mispronounce it, in which case you’ll just look like the bozo that you are. Really, though, bozos are best enjoyed without pretentions of obfuscations (cringe), so it’s for the best.

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Hey, I just remembered how cool I am today. Don’t you love those moments? I suppose it’s partially a sad irony that I would ever consider myself to be below a comfortable temperature, but to pick up on Randall’s reference to ocean hip hop as quickly as I did (only about 10 seconds, give or take)…well, it speaks to my something or other, you know? Oh, you don’t know? I didn’t think so.

I got roped into helping with a quick little one-act play that my friend Ryan is doing this May. I was cast as a judge. Which is appropriate, since I judge everyone I meet anyway. The only problem (besides all the other problems) is that I don’t know how to pretend to judge people when I’m actually judging them as myself at the same time. I mean, I’m judging the people performing, and I’m judging their (and my) performances, but I’m supposed to be judging the characters as my fictional persona in an objective manner becoming to a justice of the peace.

Also, I think I’m going to play him in the vein of the Mad Hatter. Not Johnny Depp’s Mad Hatter, but more like the 8/5 variety. (Actually, I don’t remember the correct improper fraction, but it’s something like that. Was that an inside joke in the movie? I don’t get it, if it is.)

Anyway, my point is this: I finally caved and got a haircut after cutting my own hair for well over a year, and I hate to admit it, but I like it. I don’t like dropping money on it, or feeling less than wholly self-sufficient (it’s just hair, after all…shouldn’t be that big of a problem), but I do like feeling well-groomed. Hey, maybe I’ll even start to shower again too instead of licking myself clean all the time.